


The Fox and the Hare

by v3ryvelvet



Series: One Shots [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bad date, Blind Date, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, No Pregnancy, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 04:43:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20594906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v3ryvelvet/pseuds/v3ryvelvet
Summary: Ben Solo is set up on the blind date from hell but can’t quite bring himself to walk away and leave behind the most beautiful woman he has ever seen: his waitress, Rey.





	The Fox and the Hare

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> I took inspiration from this wonderful prompt from Reylo_prompts but put my own swing on it -
> 
> _Rey is a waitress, and witness to the worst date she’s ever seen a couple have at Maz’s restaurant. Later, she laughs about it with her friend, Ben, over drinks. Bonus: Ben was one of the people on that date._
> 
> Thank you to my beta Buni and my wonderful friends Holly and Robyn who helped me along the way. 💕

  
“Mrs Organa, Ben is in a conference call, I think you’ll need to wait-“ 

Ben can already hear the urgent shuffle of his assistant Kaydel, how she desperately tries to stop the whirlwind that is his mother from entering his office.

“Oh it’s fine, not to worry dear.”

His defeated sigh echoes across the conference call. He doesn’t get a chance to tell his two reporters out in Jakku if they can hold on before his mother is barging into his office. Kaydel smiles apologetically, shrugging as Ben shakes his head. 

Leia Organa makes herself comfortable in the office of her son, smiling politely at Ben and then to his office phone which still emits the crackling voices of his journalists. 

“Sorry guys,” Ben starts with a sigh, “I’m gonna have to cut this one short. I can call back this afternoon.”

His two journalists say their goodbyes. The dial tone doesn’t even ring and Leia makes her grand announcement:

“I’ve set you up on a date!” 

Ben, who begins to type an email, halts his long fingers to look up and meet his mother’s gaze.

“You did _ what?” _

With yet another shake of his head, he continues typing.

“I’ve set you up on a date! I’m sick of seeing you alone Ben, never bring anyone home during the holidays, and the fact you are thirty and I have no grandchildren is just-“

“Jesus Christ,” his voice is pained, Ben pinches the bridge of his nose, “has it occurred to you that I might _ like _being alone?”

“Nonsense.” 

The clicking of his keyboard resumes with that, dramatic sighs and teeth grinding filling the silence of his office. 

“I’m not saying marry her, Ben,” Leia resumes, picking at her nails with an eye roll. “She’s the daughter of a friend and is doing rather well for herself. She’s single, you’re single!” Leia brings out her phone, tapping the screen with an index finger while the flap of her leather case swings open.

He grumbles an intelligible sentence, ignoring the pop up email on the bottom of his monitor that holds the details of his blind date. 

“I better go,” Leia smiles, proud as punch for setting her son up while wrapping her woollen scarf around her neck, “I’m meeting Aunty Amilyn for lunch. Now please, be nice and don’t embarrass me!” 

\- - -

A week later and Ben is walking from his car, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, moving in the direction of the restaurant he has picked for his date. He still hasn’t warmed completely to the idea of a date, especially under these circumstances. Not having the control of knowing who this woman was, if they had any shared interests or mutual attraction, had been troubling Ben and even now as he walks down the cobbled street he frowns and can only hope the night isn’t a gigantic failure. 

The Fox and the Hare is one of Ben’s favourite places to venture. Even if the date turns into a dud, at least he’ll have eaten well. Ben has been eating here for as long as he can remember, when he comes to think of it. He remembers the box of crayons and colouring book he would be given. He would fill it in while picking at the dinner of hamburger and fries while his mother and father would dine next to him. He thinks back to the stained glass windows on the old, oak doors. Whether it be rain or shine, Ben remembers the colours of the glass sparkling through the restaurant's foyer. 

It’s no different now, the door squeaks on its aged hinges, and the familiar glimmer of colours light up the space before him thanks to the setting sun behind him. The usual sound of any restaurant greets him; the chatter of patrons, cutlery meeting porcelain plates and hearty food, but the most comforting sound of all is the grand fireplace in the small lounge by the restaurant. If he listens close enough, Ben can place each individual snap, crackle and pop as the wood splits to the heat. 

He dutifully waits by the podium that is home to a calligraphy printed note: 

_ Please wait to be seated _

It’s the most comfortable Ben has maybe felt all week, the ambiance of the Fox and the Hare soothes and relaxes him. The stress of the work week seems to roll off his shoulders and out the door of the restaurant and it’s with this Ben makes a note that he should visit more often. Maybe dinner once a week, even if it is to sit by himself. 

He doesn’t mind that he has been waiting for a few minutes now. The wall of the foyer is decorated with dozens of photos, props and nick knacks. A new addition added to the wall nearly every time Ben visits. His eye is cast upon a print of a hare dressed in a Victorian attire and sitting as a portrait model; it’s whimsical and eccentric. Just another reason as to why Ben loves this restaurant. He moves to look at the next piece when footsteps catch his attention. 

“Good evening, I am _ so _sorry for the wait, sir.”

Ben turns on his heel to smile and dismiss the wait time, to tell them it’s no bother at all but his throat dries up quicker than the aged wood on the fireplace in the lounge. The hostess, he presumes, flicks through the guest book with one hand while patting down her apron at her hips in search of something.

“Your hair,” Ben states. 

The woman stops and looks up, eyeing him quizzically. 

“Your pencil,” Ben nods to her, “it’s in your hair.” 

He watches her fingers, thin and delicate, pick the number two pencil out of her chestnut bun at the back of her head. It’s not just one bun he notices, it’s three. All neatly pulled up with just a few strands that frame her pretty face. 

She laughs at herself, shaking her head in amused embarrassment. 

“Thank you, I swear I’d lose my head.” The hostess smiles at him and back down to the book. “We’re pretty busy tonight, do you have a reservation?” 

“I do, table for two under the name of Solo.”

Ben watches her. Sees the flicker of her hazel eyes as she searches for his name and notices her teeth sinking into her bottom lip in concentration. She must be new, he thinks. Ben doesn’t remember seeing someone so radiant before, if he had he’s sure he wouldn’t be on this blind date. 

“Oh yes,” she beams back up at him, “I’ve got you here. Your other party hasn’t arrived yet, would you like to follow me?” She takes two menus under her arm and grins again, moving through the lounge and into the bustling restaurant. The wacky wall art follows Ben and the hostess as she leads them past the olive green leather booths, filled with diners who look sated and comfortable by their choice of dinner. 

“Here we go.” 

Ben’s hostess places him at his own leather booth with an accompanying wooden chair on the opposite side of the table where he takes his seat. Once upon a time Ben would’ve dived for the leather booth but now at age thirty, and after many years of growing and growing...and growing, Ben takes the wooden chair so he can move from the table comfortably and without worrying about his joints locking up. The hostess (and now waitress) re-appears with a jug of water and begins to fill the tumbler glasses on the table.

“So,” she begins. Her hand moves to fill the second glass of water. “Do you want to order a drink or wait for your friend? Wife? Husband?”

Ben tries to smile but it comes out almost pained. “It’s a date, actually, and yes I’ll order a drink. Remind me what whiskey do you have?” 

She purses her lips tipping some extra ice cubes into his glass. 

“We have MacCallan, Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam and Jack Daniels. Oh!” She squeaks, “Maz just got a Fireball whiskey if you’re wanting to really take the edge off!” 

Ben chuckles at her enthusiasm but shakes his head, “a Jack and Coke will do me just fine. I’ll keep the Fireball in mind though.”

Ben isn’t accustomed to the flipping sensation in his belly. He notices it when she pouts at him. 

“I’m gonna get someone to order that Fireball so help me…” 

With another grin she leaves his table, her pencil tucked back into her buns and hips swaying until she’s behind the bar. 

He really tries to be subtle when he observes her. Opening his menu, Ben pretends to read the appetisers but instead he lets his gaze wander to her. She reaches on tip toes to get the Jack Daniels above the beer taps. If she weren’t wearing the black apron, Ben is sure her t-shirt would rise just enough to see a flash of what he is sure would be beautiful skin. This girl seems to always smile, she’s talking to another waitress who looks just as happy as she. They giggle at the bar, moving in tandem as they complete their drink orders. Ben watches his waitress move his own Jack and Coke with three others on to a tray with a grace he couldn’t even contemplate mustering. 

“One Jack and Coke,” she smiles laying his drink on a square napkin. “I need to get some orders into the kitchen so you’ll need to excuse me, but I am Rey and once your date gets here I’ll come back and check on you, alrighty?”

He smiles and nods, “of course. Thank you, Rey.” 

Rey. 

He does like how that sounds rolling off his tongue. 

When Ben spies her speaking and laughing with other diners he feels that unfamiliar flop in his belly again. It’s unusual enough to concern him so he pulls his phone from his pocket. 

_ Ben Solo: _

_ I think I’m getting sick or something _

It’s a few moments but his phone buzzes in response.

_ Poe Dameron: _

_ Think you might be lying to me buddy _

_ Ben Solo: _

_ No, really. _

_ Poe Dameron: _

_ Remember when you went out with that chick from our philosophy class? And you faked a headache? And then when you rescheduled you then pretended your grandmother was sick? _

_ Ben Solo: _

_ Okay, point taken. No, but really my stomach keeps...fluttering? _

_ Poe Dameron: _

_ You have butterflies. Date must be going well, bow chicka bow wow _

Ben’s eyes widen at his best friend and as quickly as he can Ben pushes his phone back into his pocket. 

“You must be Ben, Ben Solo?” 

Looking up from his Jack and Coke Ben is met with a woman who is more than gorgeous and definitely out of his league. He stands to greet her and as he does Ben notices her eyes widening as she takes in his appearance.

“That’s me, you’re Bazine Netal?” 

She nods once and slips into the leather booth.

“Were you late out of work?” She asks. Bazine’s hand lifts a napkin by her cutlery and begins to rub the silverware with somewhat contempt if the expression on her face is anything to go by. 

Ben frowns, “uh, no?” 

“Oh...I just thought you’d maybe have changed or something…” 

Ben looks down to the red, plaid shirt he’s wearing. One of his smarter items of clothing truth be told and with the autumn weather coming into force it keeps him comfortable. Before he can retaliate to her subtle dig Bazine continues, 

“I didn’t think you’d pick somewhere so…” her voice fades into silence, painted red lips almost scowling as she takes in the decor around them. Ben follows her line of sight, focussing on the wall print of a calico cat wearing a bunny mask. That painting has been here since Ben was in diapers. 

“The food is delicious here. Relaxed atmosphere, better than somewhere stuffy like that First Order joint.” 

Bazine Netal frowns at this. She flicks a long, manicured nail through her poker straight hair. 

“The food there is exquisite, chef Armitage is a genius.”

Ben remembers when he dined there for his parents' wedding anniversary once. Meals of beetroot meringue with olive oil foam and halibut with confit eggs. Safe to say Ben had stopped by the McDonald’s drive through on his way home ordering a large, Big Mac meal. 

He replies with a friendly shrug to Bazine. 

“Each to their own. So,” he tries to move the conversation, his mother’s words ringing in his ears about being _ nice, _“what do you do for work?” 

Bazine barely registers she is being spoken to, instead her nose is buried into her iPhone. 

“Hm,” she clicks the phone to lock and instead of hiding it in her bag or laying it face down she keeps the device in her hand. “Well, I studied business at college but my father set me up with some of his contacts and I decorate and design local office space.”

“Oh, that’s really inter-“

_ “Where _is the waitress?” Bazine interrupts with an impatient sigh. The leather creaks beneath her as she manoeuvres to look around, hair flicking dramatically as she does. Ben can feel his eyes widening and mouth turning into a frown as Bazine brazenly clicks her fingers in the direction of the bar. 

It’s the second waitress who notices Bazine, she subtly rolls her eyes and nudges Rey who is filling a pint glass with whatever beer they have on tap. The second waitress shakes her head disapprovingly, dark ponytail moving along with her. Rey, however, doesn’t bat an eyelid; continues to pour the pint and lay it on her colleague’s tray before walking to Ben and Bazine. 

“Sorry about that,” Rey smiles, “what can I get you?”

“I suppose there won’t be any Chateau wines, will there?”

Ben coughs through his drink at this, something caught between disbelief and hilarity.

“Considering it’s four grand a bottle, I’m gonna say no.”

Rey smiles at this, only for a moment before she’s looking back at Bazine with the patience of a Saint. 

“No, no Chateau’s here. We have a wine list, just there-“ Rey points to a blackboard by the bar with the names of their wines noted with costs. 

“What about cocktails?” Bazine pushes, not bothering to look at the wine board pointed out by Rey. “I could murder a pear and pomegranate Bellini.” 

Rey smiles again, “I could speak to Rose, she’s a dab hand at cocktails.”

“See that you do, thank you.”

Ben stares at this woman. Rey has already nodded and made her way back to the bar to her colleague, who he now realises is Rose, and yet she is still smiling. Had Ben been in Rey’s position he would have told Bazine to fu-

“What do you do?” Bazine interrupts his inner monologue, her eyes are trained on her scarlet talons. 

“I work in publishing and journalism, actually.”

Ben sees Bazine’s eyes light up at this, as if her irises have turned into dollar signs. Ben smirks.

“Oh, that’s _ fascinating! _For the Alderaan Herald?” 

Bingo. 

Bazine names the most popular magazine and newspaper company in all of Alderaan, Ben would keep a pretty penny if he did work there. Albert Snoke owns the Herald and it’s dirty as the hands of its owner. Celebrities are hounded, it’s politics are biased and unfair while their journalists play every trick in the book to get a story. 

“Ah, no,” he smiles and takes a sip of his drink, “actually the Global Tribune, it’s owned by my parent’s, Resistance & Co.” 

Of course, Bazine’s face drops at this and the dollar signs in her eyes crumble before him. 

The Global Tribune is the exact opposite of the Alderaan Herald. They report on local matters, like the libraries that are being threatened with closure or the funds to the local orphanage that are being cut. All the profits that the Global Tribune make are donated to a chosen charity and once a year they hold a Gala to raise money for shelters, be it animal or homeless. 

It’s a moment of silence in which Bazine is probably weighing her options of staying at the restaurant with Ben, or, going home to her penthouse apartment. 

He’s surprised when she sits back into the leather booth and nods. Predictably, silence looms over them until Rey is back at their side with a drink for Bazine. 

“No pomegranate I’m afraid, but I hope this will be okay.” 

Rey passes a champagne flute of bubbling liquid which has a pink hue to it. 

“What is it then?” Bazine asks with what Ben now realises is a persistent scowl. 

A shame, really. 

Bazine has stunning bone structure and eyes that would draw any man, or woman, into her. But her personality and attitude has Ben debating whether he should be getting up and leaving. 

“It’s raspberry Prosecco Bellini and a sprig of fresh basil on top,” Rey smiles and places the drink in front of her, seemingly unbothered by the nose that is turned up at the drink. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised that an establishment like this doesn’t serve top of the line wines,” Bazine mutters with an eye roll, snatching the drink to take a sip. Ben gazes up to Rey and fights the tug of an embarrassed smile at his lips. 

“Are you guys ready to order?” Rey pulls her notepad from her apron and the pencil from her hair, turning her body to face Ben. 

Ben always orders the same food, so much so he hasn’t even had to really read the menu Rey placed on his table when she sat him down. 

“Can I have the lasagne and instead of the side salad, can I have the triple cooked fries?” 

She grins, noting the order down.

“The chips are so good, aren’t they? I should be the size of a house with the amount I eat on my lunch and dinner breaks!” She giggles and bites her lip, like before and Ben fidgets; there’s the flutter in his stomach again. 

“Can you not order a steak?” Bazine’s voice stops that immediately. He looks to her, confused.

“Sorry?”

“I was hoping you’d order the steak so we can share?”

Ben tries to stop himself but he can’t help it, he snorts. 

“No…” he begins looking at Rey and then back to his date, “I want the lasagne. Order a steak yourself.”

Bazine seems oblivious to his reaction, pursing her lips to look at the menu again. 

“Ugh, but I don’t _ like _ lasagna” she flicks through the laminated pages of the menu, irritated by Ben’s choice of meal. 

“Okay,” he speaks slowly, straightening himself in the wooden chair. “I’m not really comfortable with sharing my food regardless so…”

Bazine _ tsks _ at him and huffs another frustrated sigh.

“I’ll just have the wholefood salad, no chicken please.” 

Whilst writing Bazine’s order, Rey glances at Ben and she wrestles with the smile that’s trying to form on her pink lips while Bazine types furiously on her phone, nails click-clacking while she mutters and tuts under her breath. 

“Okay, can I get anymore drinks while you wait for your food?” 

_ “No,” _Bazine snaps, “that’s all.” 

When Rey has walked into the direction of the kitchen with their orders Ben looks at Bazine, ready to tell her off for her behaviour like an embarrassed parent but the shrill ringtone of Britney Spears’ _ Work Bitch _ begins to beat from her phone, stopping Ben in his tracks. 

Ben has not only discovered the new sensation of butterflies thanks to his well mannered, funny and pretty waitress but he now discovers that shameful heat can reach every part of his body. Mortified, Ben looks at the other patrons who look just as disgruntled as he feels and yet all he can do is stare at Bazine, astounded that one person can be so self centred. 

She takes the call, stepping away from the table with another exaggerated sigh. 

It’s with this Ben feels like he can finally breathe, groaning silently and covering his face with his hands. 

“Something tells me you are not having fun.”

“What gave it away?” Ben drawls back to Rey, she’s serving a basket of bread at their table and biting her lip. 

Rey shrugs playfully, rocking on her heels. 

“She seems...nice?” 

Ben snorts, “not the word I was going to use, but for the sake of being in a family friendly restaurant we’ll go with that.” 

“Well, I’m sorry you’re not having more fun and I’m even more sorry to say-“ Rey looks up and back down to Ben with a grin, “she’s coming back.”

“Oh, God,” panic settles over Ben, not ready to face another moment with Bazine, “don’t leave, for the love of God-“

Bazine settles back into the leather, phone still plastered to her hand. 

“Can we help?” She asks, almost bewildered by the presence of Rey. With a wink to Ben, Rey turns on her heel and moves to the next table to collect empty dishes. 

“Honestly,” Bazine begins, looking at Rey with disdain. “She is really starting to irk me.” 

Ben looks in the same direction of Bazine and instead of his eyes filling with the same contempt Bazine’s hold, he lets his eyes cast over Rey’s body. The waitresses are all dressed the same, black jeans and white t-shirts with a little fox embroidered into the chest pocket. Jeans do wonderful things for Rey, they could be painted on to her body. He likes that she wears a little pair of yellow converse, shining up her outfit to match her personality. 

“She’s been perfectly helpful,” Ben frowns back to Bazine. 

Rey has nearly a whole family’s dishes balanced on her arms as if it’s nothing at all. 

“Probably fishing for tips,” Bazine sneers. She lifts her glass of Prosecco and sips. 

It’s been some time since Ben has felt the simmer of anger in his veins, where he feels his fists ball up and his jaw clenching. 

“I mean, if it helps you,” Bazine starts, looking at Ben and pointing to his clothes, “you can pay for the meal and I’ll cover the tip. If she gets her act together, honestly.” 

“I’m not doing this anymore,” Ben breathes, trying to remember the exercises his therapist gave him in his teen years to calm himself down. 

“Excuse me? If things are _ that _ bad Ben then _ I’ll _pay for dinner-“ 

“You are without a doubt the _ rudest _ , most _ condescending _ woman I have _ ever _ met,” Ben begins, his voice is low, to stop others hearing his brutal honesty. “Not only have you insulted me this entire evening but you have been nothing but _ cruel _to that waitress, who if I’m being honest here, has been more of a joy to be in the company of than you.” 

When Ben looks up from the notch on the wooden table he had been looking at he sees Bazine’s face is impassive. She looks almost unbothered by his words, her nails tapping on the table impatiently. Ben sighs, that voice of reason in his head telling him he could have been more subtle. 

“Look Bazine, I’m so-“

Bazine moves quickly, so quick Ben can’t even react and he’s wondering why people around him are gasping. The taste of raspberry and Prosecco hits his open mouth as he speaks, soon dripping down his face and into his facial hair to finally soak into his plaid shirt. 

“I’ll be telling my mother about this.” 

The champagne flute is slammed to the table which Ben fears will leave a crack in the glass. Bazine is up and out of the restaurant before he can try to reply to her; a hurricane of drama, expensive perfume and cursing. 

“One lasagne and one salad- _ oh.” _

Rey appears beside Ben, two plates in her hands and what Ben thinks is saddest of all, she’s no longer smiling. 

“I guess I don’t need to worry about having my food taken from my plate.” 

He tips the rest of his Jack and Coke down his throat and smiles weakly.

\- - -

“You decent?” There’s a gentle knock on the staff room toilet that Ben has been escorted into, so he can wash up after having a cocktail thrown on him. His plaid shirt has been taken off and sits under the hand dryer, locking the sickly sweet smell of raspberries into the fabric. 

“Yeah yeah,” he calls through the wooden door which begins to open. Rey pokes her head into the door, opening her mouth to speak, only to let it shut again. Ben feels her eyes rake over his bare arms and to his torso. He’s not bare under the plaid but wears a white t-shirt which thankfully hasn’t been stained pink. 

“I, uh, um,” Rey stutters, moving to look around the room and away from Ben. “I can pack up the lasagne for you, if you want to take it home? I removed the salad from the bill for you.”

Ben smiles, “thank you, I appreciate that.” 

“For being the worst date I’ve maybe ever seen, you’re looking pretty cheerful,” Rey smiles. It forms into a grin and then she laughs. “I’m sorry, but I’m just remembering your face when her Britney Spears ringtone went off.” 

His own frown turns into a grin, he too laughing but shaking his head disapprovingly.

”Stop,” he breathes through a laugh, “it’s _not _funny.”

They’re quiet for a moment and then erupt into hearty laughs that leave them both gasping for air.

Ben is still laughing when he sees his shirt is somewhat dry thanks to the efforts of the hand dryer. Slipping it over his frame he meets Rey’s gaze. “Can I ask you a question?” 

She wipes her eyes in the reflection of the mirror, careful not to smudge her make up.

“Of course.” 

“I still really want that lasagne and fries...d’you think you could take a break to...join me?” 

Ben could fall to his knees when he sees a blush form on the apple of her cheeks. Her smile brings that swooping sensation into his stomach again, and he smiles with her. 

“I thought you didn’t feel comfortable sharing food?” Rey teases opening the bathroom door to let him out back into the restaurant. The service seems quieter now, most families having had their dinner and desserts; the high chairs have been pushed away and the remaining diners sit by the bar with Rose’s cocktails in hand. 

Ben’s hand places across the small of her back, leaning down to her ear, “for you, I can make an exception.” 

\- - -

When Ben wakes the next morning it’s with a smile across his lips. It’s early enough to know he doesn’t want to wake the girl by his side. Winter is coming in quick, dark mornings and the heating programmed to come on just before he wakes. 

Ben watches her, this beautiful girl that he shared lasagne and fries with. The girl who makes him laugh deep into his belly until tears form in his eyes. 

Rey. 

Gently, he traces his fingers over her bare waist and hips. Her skin is more beautiful than what he imagined. Their night shared together is something he’ll never forget. The meeting of their lips through desperate pants and groans, their bodies slick and flushed together chasing extraordinary climaxes until they passed out, legs tangled between sheets and satisfied sighs filling his room. 

Sleep is wasted on Ben so with a gentle kiss to Rey’s shoulder he moves as quietly as he can from the bed and into his kitchen to set up breakfast for them both. Dressed in the clothes that have lay folded in his laundry pile since the weekend, he sets up the coffee pot and turns on his phone. 

The usual notifications come up, some breaking news from his CNN app, emails (both work and personal) and then…a series of texts from his mother. 

_ Mom: _

_ Have fun tonight! _

_ Mom: _

_ Bazine’s mother messaged to say the date ended early? Do I hear wedding bells? _

_ Mom: _

_ YOU TOLD BAZINE NETAL THAT SHE WAS RUDE AND CONDESCENDING AND GOD KNOWS WHAT ELSE?! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! _

_ Mom: _

_ If you do not reply to me, so help me GOD, Ben! _

_ Mom: _

_ I can’t believe you Ben, it was just a date! All you had to do was be polite and buy the girl a drink! _

He sips his coffee scrolling through the endless messages, unbothered by what he is reading. Somewhere in between Leia’s messages there is a message from Poe, too candid and rude to be allowed so he ignores his best friend. 

“Mhm, morning.” 

Rey moves behind Ben, wrapping her arms around his waist and planting a kiss between his clothed shoulder blades. 

“It’s early, what’re you doing up?” Ben chastises gently, turning around to lift her onto the counter top. Slipping between her legs and kissing a line down her neck, Ben feels her shrug. 

“Bed was cold without you,” she murmurs into his dark hair. 

“I’m sorry,” he kisses her again, “why don’t you get back to bed and I’ll bring you some breakfast and coffee?” 

His lips lead back up her soft skin, past her collarbone and ending at her own lips. He hasn’t known this girl twenty four hours and he never wants to kiss another set of lips again. 

Somehow, they untangle themselves from one another for Rey to return to bed when his phone beeps again. 

_ Mom: _

_ For God's sake! I can see you’ve read my messages, Ben! What was so awful about this date?! _

He smiles at this and types his reply. With the message sent, Ben starts on breakfast; ready to cook up what he can, he knows they’ll both need the energy for what he has planned for the day. 

_ Ben Solo: _

_ I have no idea what you’re going on about, mom. I had a great date. Thank you! _

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hesitate to leave comments and kudos! Your support means the world!


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